WARNING:
There is no explicit sex in this story (snicker), but a lot of innuendo about sexual matters and some bits of bad language. So be warned...

If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>

Part 2

The rain was still coming down in a steady drizzle during the short boat ride back over to Muir Island. "C'me 'ere, Pryde." Wisdom pulled her close, wrapping his worn old trenchcoat around both of them to shield her from the continuing downpour. Kitty plastered herself against him without any further prompting needed, reveling in the warmth of his hard, wiry body pressed against hers, and the comforting sound of his heartbeat next to her ear.

The only problem was, he just didn't smell right anymore. The long black coat wasn't the problem -- the various odors ingrained in the shabby old leather were the same as ever -- but the shirt she'd buried her face in smelled of fabric softener and, when she stretched up to nuzzle and lick at his neck just above the loosened black tie, the strong scent of his favorite cheap aftershave wasn't mixed with equal traces of nicotine and alcohol. He didn't smell right, and he didn't taste right, either.

Then, his other arm still embracing her, Pete reached up with one hand to brush her thick hair back on one side. Kitty wondered if Rahne's church would consider it inappropriate for her to pray her lover was going to whisper an obscene proposal for their next activity into her ear, but instead she heard him shout over the motor's chugging, "When we get in, I think I'll go see if Braddock or Wagner want t' work out with me."

"I'll be happy to work out with you, Wisdom. We can practice our fighting moves..." The rest of the team might joke that the two of them spent all their time together on only one activity -- at least until now, she thought sourly -- but they held frequent if informal sparring matches too, which had proven mutually beneficial. Wisdom taught her hand-to-hand techniques from British Services drills, she showed him martial arts moves in return, they shared favorite dirty tricks culled from Logan's vast repertoire and, as a bonus, Pete contributed a few things he'd picked up from Domino that were new to Kitty. She knew she could get her hands on him in a number of creative ways in quite a few interesting places in a training match; they'd quickly learned to lock the gym, after more than one sparring session had led to other types of physical involvement.

"Nah, I know you want t' get back t' work on the mad witchdoctor's data base, love. Besides, yer the one told me back when it'd be good fer team dynamics fer me t' spend more time with them wankers."

Amanda strolled into Kitty's computer lab, to find the younger girl curled up in a tight little ball in the large, contoured, black leather executive chair Pete had bought and had shipped in for her. The blonde sorceress watched in considerable bemusement, as Kitty reached out to dip her fingers in a brimful glass sitting on her desk and then sprinkle drops over a white piece of fabric she held in her lap. "Hi, Kitty. What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to fix up Pete's shirt. It doesn't smell right. *He* doesn't smell right. I can't fix him, but I can fix his shirt..." Kitty grabbed the glass and took a sudden gulp of something that smelled very alcoholic even from a distance -- probably Pete's Scotch, or Moira's, if Amanda had to guess, as she pounded Kitty on the back helpfully when the younger girl choked on the liquor burning its way down her throat.

"What are you going to do with it when you get it smelling right?" Amanda asked gently, more than a bit perturbed as she watched Kitty pick up a cigarette smoldering in a can-lid on her desk and wave it around the rumpled, stained shirt.

"I'm going to cry into it." The sorceress nodded slowly at Kitty's matter-of-fact comment. She'd wondered if the tears glistening damply on Kitty's cheeks were due only to alcohol and smoke fumes, but she went on pretending not to notice.

"I'm getting kinda freaked too, you know. I took Kurt and Pete some beer and some Reuben sandwiches I'd made up just the way Kurt likes them, with corned beef and melted cheese and sauerkraut and dill pickles, so the boys could break for a snack while Kurt was trying to teach Pete fencing, and Pete wouldn't even touch them -- he asked me for some mineral water and fruit salad instead." Amanda pantomined an exaggerated look of shock.

"Yeah, Pete promised me he'd try to reform all his bad habits, and eat only healthy food and not drink or smoke and get some real exercise outside of us just fooling around, and he's really keeping his promise." Kitty didn't sound proud or pleased, though, she sounded despondent.

"Well, his exercise regime needs some work," the strawberry blonde smirked. "Pete's going to be all black and blue, the way Kurt's slamming him around with that practice saber, and it's Pete's own fault -- he tried using one of his giant hotknives like a light-saber and sliced through one of Kurt's favorite swords, and Fuzzy's furious."

"Good!" Amanda raised her eyebrows at the ill-concealed rancor in Kitty's voice. "I hope Fuzzy Elf pokes lots and lots of holes in him, the stupid git. That's *not* the weapon I need him practicing with..." Kitty noticed the other woman's slightly stunned look and moderated her tone immediately. "I'm sorry, Amanda, you know I didn't really mean that. But I'm just so frustrated! I never expected to see the day Pete would rather exercise with Brian or Kurt than with me..."

"So, what does Pete say, when you tell him just exactly that?" the sorceress asked curiously. Wisdom's recent atypical behavior had been the subject of lively gossip and wild speculation among the other denizens of Muir for quite some time now.

"I can't tell him anything like that! First, he's being so good, doing everything I asked him to, giving up everything I asked him to. But more than that, I'm just plain *scared* to confront him directly. What if he says he doesn't want to, anymore, that he doesn't want *me* anymore? Because I pushed him too hard, tried to change him too much? What do I do then? And what if he says he wants to, but just can't? I read somewhere feeling pressured to perform is the worst possible thing in that case..."

Nightcrawler's girlfriend had to hide a smile. That was Kitty, all right, always looking for the answers in some textbook. "Ok, I can see how it might be a hard topic to bring up casually." Imagining that scene, she just couldn't suppress a giggle at the thought of any man's reaction to such a challenge to his virility. "So, why don't you try a nice, slow, romantic seduction? You don't have to bring the question up, just set the mood and let him know -- subtly -- that you're interested and available."

The younger girl shook her head sadly. "That may be Kurt's style, but it isn't Pete's. And Pete's taught me all kinds of things, but I've never had to learn to seduce him, not really, especially not from scratch. Usually all I have to do is be within arm's reach of him, and breathing, and he's ready, willing and able -- usually." She eyed Amanda hopefully. "You're a sorceress, right? So you could maybe mix me up a love potion?"

The desperate undertone in Kitty's plea had Amanda worried. "Those frequently end up backfiring -- you might end up in love with Kurt and I'd have to kill you," she grinned, "or Pete might end up in love with Moira and she'd have to kill him." Amanda gave Kitty a conspiratorial glance out the corner of her eye. "But you know, now that I think about it some more, seeing that would almost be worth it."

The sorceress was pleased to see that got a reluctant laugh out of her old friend. She stood up to leave, with a final "Get Moira to check him out first -- maybe his new diet has screwed up his testosterone levels or something. Then you try a nice, slow, romantic seduction. It'll work, trust me..." But Kitty's woebegone expression didn't change, and Amanda sighed and capitulated. "Ok, look -- if it *doesn't* work and Moira says he's fine physically, I'll check him out for demonic possession. But, in return, you promise me you'll lay off the booze in the meantime, ok?"

Looking for her absent boyfriend a bit later, thinking she might try Amanda's advice and talk to Pete about her feelings openly -- or, if she chickened out on that, just try harder to seduce him -- she was surprised when Meggan told her she'd seen Pete outside, apparently going for a walk. Kitty tried to resist the temptation for a brief moment, then shrugged and set out to follow him. She -- together with every one else on Muir -- was still finding Wisdom's sudden reformation more than a bit hard to swallow, and she occasionally wondered if he was just faking, sneaking out for a surreptitious cigarette or drink, or to gorge himself on a hidden cache of junk food. Besides, catching him alone, away from the others, might help.

Following quietly, at a distance, Kitty was relieved to see his thin dark figure veer aside when they came in sight of a brooding Colossus sitting on a granite outcropping, staring out to sea -- Pete male-bonding with Peter or Peter questioning and commiserating with her current sexual deprivation were just not things she felt she could cope with right now. Then she jumped when a high voice came from behind. "Is there some esoteric psychological significance in your current activity which my limited familiarity with human customs precludes me from comprehending?"

She whirled to confront the golden-skinned, techno-organic entity who wore the form of her old, dead friend. "Douglock, why are you following me? What do you want?"

"I have heard many of our fellow residents speculating on more than one occasion as to whether Mister Wisdom is in reality still Mister Wisdom or a pod-person, and I do not understand. When I asked Rahne and Meggan and Nightcrawler and Amanda and Dr. MacTaggert, they all told me to ask you. So I came to ask you -- what is a pod-person and why does everyone think Mister Wisdom is one?"

Before she could come up with a suitable reply, she saw Pete turning towards them, and heard him call out, "That you, Pryde?" And, before she could shoo Douglock away, her boyfriend had walked up to join them. "You two deep in some soddin' computer shit, then? Ferget it an' bugger off, mate -- I want Kit t' meself fer a bit..."

As Pete grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away, she glanced back over her shoulder at her techno-organic teammate staring after them. "You go back to the research center, Douglock. We'll talk later, ok?" Kitty almost skipped along at her lover's side in her rush to catch up to him, buoyed by the hope -- and desire -- Pete's last words had aroused. She didn't care if it was cold and wet outside, as long as he wanted her. But she got more and more puzzled as he headed for the edge of one of Muir's many stony cliffs.

Wisdom stopped right at the edge, pulling her next to him, waving one arm at the view of wind-tossed waves. "Beautiful, ain't it? Just like you..." As Kitty stood speechless, Wisdom hugged her, kissing her on the forehead. "Y' know, love, that meant th' world t' me, when you said you didn't want t' ruin my fun, you just wanted me t' live a long an' healthy life so we can go on havin' fun together fer a long long time to come. That gave me a good reason t' try 'n' change fer th' better..."

Kitty's mind boggled at the vision of spending the rest of her life with this new, kinder, gentler, reformed, affectionate, and apparently celibate Pete Wisdom. "I'd rather jump off this cliff," she muttered, sotto voce. She wanted -- she needed -- the lewd, rude, dirty, stinking, obnoxious, drunken, sex maniac she'd fallen in love with to come back.

"What was that, Pryde?"

"Oh, I was just thinking... it might be a good idea to let Moira check you over." Ignoring Wisdom's half-hearted demurrals, she gushed on, "Amanda told me Kurt banged you up a bit earlier, and I just want Moira to make sure you're ok. Changing so many long-time habits so quickly must be awful stressful in itself, maybe it's sapped your strength just a bit..."

"Nae, A cannae find anything wrong wi' yon daft Sassenach, Kitty." Dr. MacTaggert looked up from Wisdom's just-updated medical records. "His blood tests an' all other lab work are fine. Red an' white cell counts, blood sugar an' cholesterol all well wi'in normal ranges, nae sign o' any new infection or injury, normal reflexes, nae big problems in movement or endurance... improved skin tone... nae sign o' cysts, lumps or internal parasites -- alien, african or american -- normal prostate, all hormones within his typical ranges..." Moira sounded just a bit grumpy. Normally she loved getting the abrasive Englishman trapped in her lab, especially for the more embarrassing tests, but it wasn't nearly as entertaining for her when Wisdom didn't vehemently protest or try to escape her clutches. And being grumpy usually made her Scots more pronounced.

"I know, he's been just wonderful," Kitty babbled a bit nervously. "He hasn't smoked a cigarette or had a drink, he's getting up early and eating lots of healthy food and going out for long walks and getting a good night's rest every night..." Her voice trailed away uncertainly.

Moira set down her papers and sat back, drumming her fingers idly on her desk. "Sae, why did ye want me tae check him oot?"

"Because... because he... we... we don't... Because he doesn't want me anymore!" Kitty burst into tears, sobbing her heart out as the older Scotswoman jumped up to gather the young girl into her arms. "We're in the shower, and all he does is scrub my back and wash my hair -- which he did before -- but that's *all* he does. We're alone in our room, and he never suggests some private recreation -- he starts picking stuff up and putting it away." Her voice rose in a plaintive wail. "We go to bed, he kisses me and says goodnight and turns over and just goes right to sleep." She pulled herself upright, still sniffling. "Moira, it's not supposed to be like that, is it? Alcohol's supposed to dull the sex drive, isn't it? So not drinking should increase it. And healthy food and lots of rest should give you lots more energy for all kinds of physical activities, including fooling around together, it never makes *me* feel uninterested." Kitty was blushing furiously, reminding herself over and over that Moira was a doctor, used to being consulted about extremely personal matters.

Moira offered her a box of tissues. "Aye, maun all them foul black Sassenach divils be mickle contrary beasties..." Then she gave Kitty her own suggestions and recommendations. "If tha' doesna work, A'll start on more tests tomorrow, fuir glandular imbalance, mind control, and cloning."

Kitty glanced around the room, nervously smoothing her hands along the hopefully alluring and seductive outfit she was wearing -- the lace- trimmed silk slip and wrap she'd 'borrowed' from Rachel's things so long ago for her first time with Pete, now enhanced with a matching garter belt and stockings Wisdom had bought her and her highest heels.

She'd prepared carefully, combining Amanda's and Moira's suggestions with her own intimate knowledge of her lover -- she hoped. Dinner for two in their room, the table covered by a white damask tablecloth borrowed from Meggan and laid with some of Moira's best serving dishes, the dinner itself planned and cooked with lots of help from Rahne. She lit the tall, thin, scented candles Amanda had contributed and took out the Tori Amos CD she'd been listening to, then started a Righteous Brothers greatest hits CD playing quietly.

Pausing in her pacing, she wriggled her hips slightly, trying to get more comfortable in that stupid garter belt -- no, she reminded herself, 'suspenders' were what Pete called garters. Whatever he called them -- it? -- this was one of the silliest, most ridiculous items of clothing she'd ever worn -- except that, based on her past experience, it was absolutely, positively guaranteed to have her lover salivating at the mouth the instant he saw her, especially combined with the sheer black stockings that were also among his favorites and the 4-inch stilts only her natural dancer's agility let her walk in for any length of time.

She jumped when the door opened suddenly and Wisdom walked in. "Hey, Pryde, c'mon, I promised Meggie we'd watch th' Teletubbies with 'er... " He glanced around, curiously. "Wot's th' special occasion? Did I ferget yer birthday or somethin'?"

"I just thought we both deserved some quality time together.." Kitty came up to him and pulled off his jacket, dropping it on the floor as she wrapped her arms around him and rubbed her body against his suggestively. "But, if you'd *really* rather we go watch Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa Laa and Po..."

Pete just returned her hug casually, without the obvious physical reaction she'd been working for, then pulled away and ambled over to sit at the table, without a second look at her wearing what used to be one of his favorite outfits. "Ok, we can eat now an' join Meg tomorrow. So, wot's fer dinner?"

His frustrated girlfriend gritted her teeth, forcing down her sudden urge to kick him -- hard -- in a certain place, and see if *that* managed to get a reaction out of him. Instead, she came up next to him and lifted the covers off several of the serving plates, revealing large portions of haggis, black pudding, faggots, and chip butties.

Wisdom stared down at the various offerings in some astonishment. "Hell, I can't eat any o' that crap, Pryde... I promised you, I'd eat healthy junk only. You got any idea wot goes into this soddin' muck?" He poked his fork tentatively at the steaming sheep entrails, the dark blood sausage, the chopped-liver meatballs swimming in thick gravy, the ketchup-soaked french fries peeping out from between slices of thick buttered bread.

"Pete." Her voice was rock-steady as she tangled a small hand in his unruly black hair, tugging his head up and around until her big brown eyes were staring directly into his deep blue ones. "Eat the damn haggis, or I'll turn *you* into haggis."

As Wisdom watched suspiciously, trying to figure out the catch here, Kitty first loaded up his plate with large helpings of everything mixed together in an even more revolting jumbled mass, then grabbed a glass and poured out a hefty dose of deep amber liquid from the bottle of vintage Scotch Moira had provided. She handed it to him with a shy, sweet smile glued on her face. "Here you go. Moira swore this is the good stuff."

He took the tumbler gingerly, staring longingly at the rich liquor. "Look, Pryde, wot's the deal 'ere? I been stickin' to me bloody promise, but I don't remember torture being part o' the soddin' bargain..."

"It's medicine, bub." Kitty's normally soft voice was velvet steel now. "Now drink your damn medicine down, or do I have to pinch your nose shut and pour it down your stupid throat?"

Pete took a big swallow so quickly the fiery liquid made him choke, and Kitty pounded on his back helpfully, if not very gently. "Ain't you joinin' me?"

Her voice was pure ice now. "Pete. Shut. Up. Eat. Drink." She poured herself a tiny portion of the Scotch, and sipped at it slowly, trying to keep her spirits and her courage up while she watched him eat, standing over him menacingly until the plates were all squeaky clean, refilling his glass frequently.

When he'd finished, and pushed his chair back with a replete burp, Kitty topped off his drink one more time and moved away, to return just a moment later with the pack of Marlboros he'd ceremoniously let her lock away when he'd resolved to reform. She leaned over him, making sure he got a good eyeful of her admittedly modest cleavage while she reached out to light a cigarette in the flickering light of one of Amanda's ivory tapers. Then she sat down in his lap, making sure her slip rode up high enough to expose firm milky white thighs highlighted by the garters and sheer black stockings, and waved the cigarette around under his nose, smiling to see his nostrils flare whenever the acrid grey haze wafted by. "You've got a choice of desserts now, Wisdom," she purred in his ear, while nipping delicately at his earlobe. "Rahne worked very hard this afternoon to make you one of her gorgeous, rich, incredibly delicious strawberry shortcakes... or... you can have me instead..." Kitty was thrilled to feel Pete's one arm come up to rub at her back sensuously and then pull her close for a deep, long kiss, even as his other hand grabbed at the Marlboro proffered so temptingly...

Concluded in Epilogue...